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Friday, January 4, 2013

Moooom or Daaaaayaaad!

She calls, over and over, "Moooom or Daaaaaaayaaad!" It's the middle of the night and she urgently needs a parent's assistance. This is the most terrifying thing in her young life. She calls again, praying someone will come to escort her to the bathroom. Sometimes her parents are too deeply asleep to come to her aid - or they're ignoring her in an effort to encourage her to go on her own. Alone. Down the long, dark, scary hallway. To the end of the long, dark, scary hallway - a trip full of too many dangers for her young mind to contemplate.

The first time she decided to try going to the bathroom on her own, it took her at least twenty minutes to talk herself out from under her covers. Then she had to make a path of pillows from her bed to the doorway. This way the snakes that live under her bed wouldn't feel the vibration of her feet on the floor and attack. Hopping from pillow to pillow, she made her way to the doorway. There, at the end of the long, dark, hallway, was the bathroom. She hit the floor running - and ran right into a big trunk that lived in the hall. Admitting defeat, she half-limped, half-ran back to her room and dove into the sanctuary of her bed.It's now a few nights later, and she's plucked up the courage to try once again. Pillows in place, she hops, sprints, swerves, jumps, and arrives in the bathroom unscathed. Once done with bathroom activities, she needs to get back to bed. And before that can happen, she needs to flush the toilet. Herein lies a tremendous problem. Alligators live in the toilet, and are angered by its flushing, attacking any who dares disturb them. In addition there is the problem of the trap door in the hallway, which, should she not properly jump over it, would drop her into a pit of crocodiles. She must time things perfectly.

Closing the lid of the toilet ever-so-quietly, she stretches one hand backward to the toilet handle and spreads her feet wide, ready to take off. Pushing the handle down, she lurches forward, sprinting into the hallway. Leaping over the trap door, sure the alligators are close behind, she rounds the bend and slams her hand down on the post at the top of the stairs. This activates the trap door, and she prays the alligators are far enough behind to fall into the crocodile pit so they won't make it to her bedroom. Through her bedroom door, she leaps onto one pillow, then another - but wait - she needs a pillow for sleeping purposes. She quickly turns, scoops one up, and flings it and herself onto her bed. She decides to sacrifice all remaining pillows as she plunges into the safety of her covers. Blankets pulled securely over her head, she counts up to and down from 16 sixteen times before daring to peep out, afraid one of the alligators has made it into her bedroom. No alligators. All is well. She has survived. Too tired to feel triumphant, she curls up and drifts off to sleep, the sound of her own heart still beating in her ears.